The Mostly True Confessions of an Honest Man
by JamiW
Summary: Follow-up one-shot to "Let's Go"


**A/N: I owe a ton of review responses, and I'll get to them I promise, but this is also a blanket thank you for so many awesome reviews! And of course, I couldn't ignore the requests for more :)**

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><p><strong>Bobby POV<strong>

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><p>"You look different."<p>

I looked down at myself and shrugged with forced casualness.

"Different shirt," I responded. "And I'm working on a beard."

Dr. Gyson looked at me reproachfully and then shifted positions, pulling one foot up beneath her in the chair.

"Are we back to playing games, Detective? You're the one who wanted to keep coming here. Insisted on it, in fact."

I sighed and attempted to relax.

Attempted _not_ to smile.

Because as unsure as I was about being here, I was still happy.

It just made me nervous to let _her_ know that I was happy.

"What is it?" she asked me with concern.

"I can't help but wonder about confidentiality."

My question threw her off-guard and she shifted again in the chair, this time putting both feet back on the floor.

"You're afraid that I might tell someone about our conversations?"

"You do work for the department."

"Okay, here's the way this works," she said, sounding slightly offended by my assertion. "Our sessions are private. Period. Nothing that either of us says will leave this room unless you're the one who chooses to repeat it. And while it's true that the NYPD contracted me to conduct our previous sessions in order to establish your fitness for duty, there was only a yes or no involved, no details. And now…well, now you're here by choice, so the department has absolutely nothing to do with anything."

"You're right. I apologize," I said, since she'd gotten worked up over the matter.

"No need," she replied, waving me off and resuming her earlier position. "Now, let's start again. _You_ look different today. And when I say that I don't mean something as superficial as the color of your shirt or the abundance or lack of facial hair. So why don't we start by you telling me…what _happened_…between last week and this week, okay?"

What happened?

A lot.

And I wasn't going to tell her about everything, but it wouldn't hurt to talk about the basics.

Because I don't want to screw things up.

"I…had a date," I said at last. "Two, actually."

"In a week? I'm impressed. With the same woman?"

"You think I'd…no…I mean, yes. The same woman."

I watched her as a small smile found its way to her face, and I added, "And you already knew the answer to that one."

"I…did, yes. But aren't you the one who says everybody lies? You have to know that includes you. And I wanted to see if you'd tell me the truth."

"I retracted that comment," I reminded her.

"Yes, you did. By saying that your _partner_ doesn't lie. You never said that _you_ don't."

"I do from time to time," I admitted. And then, because I _am_ in a therapy session, I added, "Mostly to myself."

She rewarded me for my comment with a smile, but it also seemed like she was taking it as a challenge, like since I'd now opened this gate, she was going to run through it.

"And to _me_," she stated. "Your questions about having a normal life…you made it seem as though it was a far-off dream. Something abstract and indistinct in your distant future. But the fact of the matter is that the woman you want to have in your normal life…you've already met her. You already know her. And you might even already love her."

I had to hand it to her.

She was good.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my forearms on my thighs, avoiding eye contact with her for just a moment.

"That bothers you, doesn't it?" she continued.

I looked up at her and waited for her to elaborate, even though I knew what she meant.

But instead, she switched direction.

"Tell me about your date."

"Aren't we here to discuss my past, and how it relates to my current ability to handle various situations?"

"We're here to help you get what you want out of life," she stated.

I wasn't sure if I needed that kind of help anymore.

I was halfway to getting exactly what I want.

Last week, Alex and I worked the bank case, having secured jurisdiction over the feds.

And our Monday night date got postponed to Tuesday.

And then Wednesday.

By Thursday, we were making headway, but it was nearly seven before we finished up at 1PP. Too late to go home and change and then go to Forest Hills to pick her up. It would end up being ten o'clock before we even got started, and after the hours we'd been working, we'd both probably end up falling asleep in our dinner.

But Alex surprised me that day.

Apparently she was just as anxious to have our date as me.

"_Give me ten minutes_," she'd said as she handed me the car keys.

I glanced down to where our hands were touching as she passed off the keys to the department SUV, and then I looked back at her in question.

"_I brought a change of clothes_," she explained with a slightly embarrassed smile. "_Pick me up in front of St. Andrew's_."

I'd continued to stare at her as she turned around and headed for the locker room, and then I caught myself and glanced quickly around the squad room. Fortunately, no one was paying attention to the fact that I'd just watched my partner's ass for nearly a full minute.

I gathered my things and headed for the parking garage, suddenly nervous that we were really going to do this.

_Tonight_.

I was slightly panicked, since I hadn't really had time to prepare, but I managed to calm myself down as I drove the two blocks to St. Andrew's.

There wasn't any need to panic.

_She wants to go out with me_, I'd reminded myself.

In fact, she'd said that she'd go anywhere with me.

And the way she'd said it…let's just say I dreamed about that declaration of hers every night since…the look on her face and the tone she'd used…it's very possible that I'd drastically underestimated her level of sexuality.

And maybe that doesn't sound right.

I don't mean to say that she's not beautiful and sexy and arousal-inspiring.

Without a doubt, she is.

It's just that it took me so long to _let down my drawbridge_ and see her for who she is, and to accept the fact that I want her and that it's not an impossibility that she wants me, too.

Prior to last Sunday, I'd done my best to keep her locked in that role of partner only.

Because if I'd let myself see her as a woman, I was so sure that I was only setting myself up for heartbreak and failure.

But then Sunday…after Gyson sounded so sure that there was more to me…and then I went outside and there she was.

Alex, not Eames.

Because I knew damn well she had to have been outside before that call came in, so that meant she'd been waiting for me just _because_.

So Thursday night, I'd sat in that SUV, the one that I very rarely drive and yet Alex had freely handed over the keys so that I could drive us on our date, and I found myself pondering what she might change in to, because I didn't know what Alex wore when she went on dates.

But my mind didn't do her justice, because suddenly, there she was.

She was walking along the sidewalk, smiling at me as she approached the SUV.

And she was wearing a dress.

Now, sitting in Dr. Gyson's office, I can't even remember the color.

But I remember exactly how it looked on her.

Perfect.

"If you really don't want to talk about it," Gyson said, since my mind had wandered back to Thursday night.

"No. It's…fine," I decided.

Because like I said, I really don't want to screw this up.

And if the shrink can help me have a better relationship with Alex, then I'll keep coming here forever.

"Good," she replied with a smile. "So the first date. Where'd you go?"

"Birdland."

"The jazz club?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah. We…um…I'd been working a lot, and she suggested that we go someplace where we could have dinner and relax, and I like that place, so…yeah, I took her there."

"I'm not judging your choice," she said quickly. "It just doesn't seem like a first date kind of place. I imagine it would be hard to hear in there, difficult to carry on a first-date conversation."

It _had_ been a little loud, but neither of us minded.

It gave us an excuse to sit closer to each other than we might have done otherwise.

And we didn't need to have first-date conversation. We already know each other so well in most every aspect.

Every aspect except physically, really.

And I don't just mean sex. I mean we don't know the side of each other that comes out during a dating-type relationship.

I'd been pleasantly surprised to find that Alex is very affectionate.

When she got to the SUV on Thursday night, I quickly got out and met her on the sidewalk.

"_You look…"_ I'd begun, wanting desperately to tell her she was gorgeous and yet afraid of sounding cliché or insincere.

And then I decided that she needed to hear the truth because even though I'd mostly avoided looking at her as a woman in the past, she was most definitely, without a doubt, a woman.

"_Stunning_," I finished. "_And much too beautiful to be going on a date with me."_

"_Always the charmer,"_ she deflected, even as she smiled broadly from my compliment.

"_I'm just an honest man,"_ I assured her. Then I turned and opened the passenger door for her. "_Are you ready?"_

Because I was ready.

For what, I had no idea, but just anywhere, doing anything with her.

And then she completely threw me for a loop.

As I stood there, holding the door open for her, she set her bag down on the seat and then stepped up to me and grabbed hold of my tie.

I didn't breathe at all as she undid the knot and then pulled the blue-striped silk from around my neck.

"_You didn't get to change,"_ she explained, her voice sounding unusually husky as she then reached up and undid the top two buttons of my shirt. "_But you can still relax a little, right?"_

And then, as though nothing had just happened…as though I wasn't hard as a rock from the innocent yet intimate thing she'd just done…she got into the car and smiled expectantly at me, waiting for me to close the door.

Mother of God.

Who knew that Eames would be so wonderfully, tantalizingly, dangerously seductive, all apparently without even trying?

I'd managed to close the door and then did my best to gather my wits about me as I wandered around the back of the vehicle, back to the driver's side.

And by gather my wits, I mean I tried working out various algorithms in my head in an effort to shake the image of her undressing me.

"So did you?" Dr. Gyson asked me, and it was probably a really good thing that she chose that moment to interrupt my thoughts, because I did _not_ need to recreate that scenario in my head while sitting in therapy.

"Did I…"

"Were you able to have first-date conversation?"

"Yeah," I answered nonchalantly. "Yeah, we did fine. It was a lot of fun."

It really was a lot of fun.

Because as I mentioned, Alex is affectionate. We sat close together in a small booth in a dark corner of the club, and she touched me.

A lot.

Not like _that_.

Just light, casual touches as we carried on conversation in our typical shorthand.

We talked some about our current case, and then we revisited a few of the more memorable old cases, and then we segued into other, more personal topics.

And it was so easy.

Even despite the fact that a few times I had to conjugate verbs in my head.

Once when she leaned over to say something to me and I realized that her change in position meant I could see a good portion of cleavage, along with the edge of her bra.

Which was black, by the way.

And then another time when I was telling her about something that happened when I was in Korea, a funny story, and she was laughing and I reached out to touch her leg to get her attention so that I could finish the tale, and her dress had shifted from when she'd crossed her legs, and so when I touched her, I touched bare skin.

It was only the area just above her knee, but still…it was unexpected and it instantly felt so intimate.

The third time I felt overwhelmed with lustful urges had nothing to do with actual physical contact, and yet it was the most difficult to ignore.

"_I can't believe we never did this before,"_ I'd said, referring to our date. _"I haven't had this much fun…ever."_

"_You weren't ready before."_

"_And you were?"_

"_I have been for awhile,"_ she admitted cautiously. "_I was…waiting for you."_

And the way she looked at me…that was that third time I mentioned.

I swear, my body temperature climbed five degrees just from the way she was looking at me.

And all I could think about was that if she would just look at me like that for the rest of our lives, I would die a very happy man.

"I guess it must have been," Gyson said, referring to my assertion that my date and I had fun. "Since you went on a second date in less than a week's time. Considering your busy schedule, it couldn't have been easy to make that happen."

"It wasn't, but…it was worth the effort."

Understatement of the year.

I would've done just about anything to make that second date happen.

But as it turned out, I only had to ask.

"_I had a really great time_," Alex said to me when I pulled the car to a stop in front of her building. I shut off the engine, but she reached over and put her hand over mine, stopping me from pulling out the keys. "_You don't have to walk me up_."

I'd looked at her quickly, surprised that the kiss-of-death phrase had come out of her mouth, especially since she also just said she'd enjoyed herself.

"_That came out wrong_," she added. And then she unbuckled her seatbelt, leaned over the console, and pressed her lips against my cheek for a long moment before easing back to her side of the vehicle. "_I only meant that it's late. And if you walk me up, I'll invite you in. And if I invite you in…well, you might never make it home."_

And yeah, okay, so when I said that there were three times that I had to fight to control my body's base reaction to Alex, that was only mostly true.

It was actually four times.

Because when she said that...yeah.

That's the stuff x-rated fantasies are made of.

"_Do I…need to go home?"_ I teased her innocently.

She laughed and flashed me a beautiful smile, and then said, "_You're tempting my resolve. And I know I teased about going to your place, but…I just don't want to rush anything."_

Just the fact that she was tempted was making the battle between my mind and my body a completely unfair fight.

"_Another date, then,"_ I suggested. "_Saturday night?"_

"_I was hoping you'd say that."_

I'd watched her walk into her building, and then I drove home on autopilot as I rehashed the evening.

It was perfect.

By the time I got home, I'd given up on trying to control my overstimulated libido and instead I went with it, deciding it was probably better to relieve the tension than to continue letting it build.

Especially since I'd be seeing Alex at work the next day, and then again on Saturday night.

It would have to be better to start from square one as opposed to being one look away from blast-off.

"So…jazz club on the first date. Where was the second?"

"Are we really going to spend the whole hour talking about my two dates?"

"How many dates have you been on in the past five years?"

"Five years? Um…I'm not…I don't know."

"I'd wager to bet that it's not much more than two," she said knowingly.

"I told you before. It's been a rough couple of years for me," I reminded her.

"Right," she agreed. "You're exactly right. Okay, so how many dates have you had in the past ten years?"

"It's not like I keep a log book."

"It wouldn't be a very big book, would it?"

I sat back in my chair, watching her as she watched me.

"You want me to admit that I haven't dated much? Okay, fine. I haven't."

"Why is that, do you think?"

"I wasn't interested."

"You weren't interest_ed_, or you thought you weren't interest_ing_?"

"I had trouble picturing myself with any woman for anything more than a date or two," I said, slightly deflecting her question.

"So…for sex," she stated. "Because that doesn't require you to open yourself up emotionally."

I shrugged and nodded my agreement without offering up the information that I'd barely spent any time even doing _that_.

"Okay," she said, apparently liking my honesty. "And now you've had two dates with the same woman in less than a week. Was that about sex?"

"It's not…no, it's…"

"Let me rephrase that," she said, interrupting my stumbling response. "I'm not asking you if you slept with her. You admitted that you previously could never picture yourself going out with a woman more than once or twice as a means of avoiding getting too personal, so what I'm asking is that with _this_ woman…this one with whom you've now had _two_ dates…is it _only_ about sex? Or are you picturing more dates, with this woman, in your future?"

Was I picturing more dates?

Hell yes.

In fact, Alex was probably outside waiting for me right now.

I fought the urge to check my watch, not wanting the doctor to pick up on the fact that I was anxious to finish our session, and instead answered her question.

"I'm definitely interested in pursuing a relationship with her."

"You know this means you'll have to talk about your past. Not all at once, of course, but it'll come up. And if you close off about it, then it'll keep a barrier between the two of you, and you'll be stacking the odds against having a successful relationship."

"I know."

"Are you ready to do that? After two dates?"

"You sound like you're trying to talk me out of it."

"I'm just surprised at your ability to trust so quickly."

She wanted me to admit that it was Alex…that I was in love with my partner, like she'd accused me of weeks ago.

But despite our talk about confidentiality, I wasn't ready to be that open just yet.

There was too much at stake.

"_You have another appointment tomorrow_?" Alex had asked me last night as we sat in the car in front of her building.

We'd just finished our second date.

It had been an utterly normal date consisting of dinner at Delmonico's, followed by a movie.

I hadn't been to see a movie at a theater in years, but Alex had suggested it and so I agreed.

She picked a whodunit flick and then we made fun of it for the entire two hours. The ineptness of the lead detective…the inaccuracies of the investigative process…I know it was supposed to be a serious movie, but we laughed through most of it.

And we held hands.

It was strange how much being with her made me feel like a kid again in the sense that every time she touched me it was like the first time anyone had ever touched me.

And she wore a dress again.

I don't know if it's because she's trying to look completely different from when she's on the job, or if she just likes wearing dresses when she's out on a date, but considering it gives me the opportunity to look at her legs, I'm not complaining.

"_Yeah, same time as last week," _I said in answer to her question. _"Sundays are the best time to try to fit it in."_

"_I can pick you up," _she offered. _"If you want."_

"_Like last week,"_ I said playfully. _"Only without the case."_

Because we'd finished up our most recent case earlier that day, so we were good until Monday.

Unless we chose to jump in on another one.

But I didn't see that happening.

"_Right_," she agreed with a smile. "_Unless you don't…"_

_"I'd like that_," I said quickly.

"_Okay. Good. Well, I'll see you tomorrow then_," she said, and maybe it was just me, but she didn't look like she was in any hurry to get out of the car.

And she'd been the one making all of the moves so far, so I thought maybe it was time for me to man up.

Before she could protest, I cut off the car and got out, walking around to her side. I opened her door for her and held out my hand to help her out. I mean, she was in a dress, and fairly high heels. And even though we were in my lower-slung mustang instead of the department SUV, it was still the gentlemanly thing to do.

_"Don't worry,"_ I said once she was out and I shut the door. _"I'm not going to walk you up."_

_"You're not?"_

_"You don't want to rush things. Right?"_

_"Right,"_ she said, sounding slightly disappointed.

_"I don't either,"_ I agreed as I moved closer to her.

It struck me hard just how much smaller she is than me, even in the heels, and I suddenly felt huge and maybe slightly clumsy, but then she looked up at me expectantly as I continued to encroach on her personal space, and so then I ignored my fears and instead reached out my hand and settled it along the side of her neck, allowing my thumb to stroke lightly along her jaw.

_"So instead of walking you up,"_ I said quietly, moving my lips closer to hers as nerves flooded through me with the realization of what I was about to do. _"I thought I'd just do this here."_

When I finished my statement, I breached the last distance between us and covered her mouth with mine.

Today, sitting in Gyson's office, I had perfect recall of how that first kiss had felt.

Nothing at all like a first kiss.

And I have no idea why I thought that kissing her would make me okay with _not_ going upstairs.

Because it was torture to let her go.

We let the kiss go on for a long time…exactly how long, I'm not sure, but by the time it ended, we were both breathless and her hair was slightly messy from where I'd put my fingers through it and her lips were swollen from the intensity with which our mouths had met and I had my body pressed against hers, holding her against the car, so there was no longer any need for algorithms or conjugation because she could feel first hand just exactly what she was doing to me.

And we didn't stop at one kiss, either.

I tried to, but I couldn't, and apparently she couldn't either because she returned the kisses with equal enthusiasm, and then wrapped her arms around me, pulling me even tighter against her, and I couldn't stop the groan that escaped due to the increased pressure against certain, aching parts of me.

And then a car had driven past, reminding both of us that we were making out on a public street.

I'd eased back a step in an effort to regain a modicum of restraint, but all I really wanted to do was pick her up and carry her up to her apartment.

But she was right.

We didn't need to rush it.

And like I said, it was pure torture letting her go.

But I did.

Eventually.

"_I can't believe I've worked next to you for more than a decade and yet I didn't know you could kiss like that,"_ I said, trying to lighten the moment so that my pulse might slow down.

_"All you had to do was ask,"_ she replied, clearly pleased by my compliment. _"I'd have shown you any time." _

_"Any time?"_

She nodded as a smile spread across her face, so I said, "_Okay. Show me again."_

She did.

Twenty minutes later, when I finally watched her walk across the street and into her building, I was still physically aching with need for her.

She was a dangerous combination of smart and sexy, and I could kick myself for not seeing it sooner.

"Are you still afraid that our sessions will become department property?" Dr. Gyson asked when I didn't respond to her interrogative. "You see me sitting here. I'm not even taking notes."

"I'm just not ready to share yet," I said at last.

"With me? Or with her?"

"I've been sharing with her. I know what it takes to have a successful relationship."

"Do you?"

"Just because I've never had one doesn't mean I don't know how."

"You make a valid point," she agreed with a nod. "Although I imagine that it's easier in theory than in real life. Can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"The more you share, the more you'll want to share. It becomes easier as it starts to feel more natural. If you sit on things, and then worry about them, it turns your past into this whole mystery of land mines and locked doors."

We finished the session, and then I left her office, her parting words once again leaving me with something to think about.

Of course, Alex is no stranger to my family secrets.

But she mostly only knows the nuts and bolts, and I couldn't remember if I'd ever shared a happy memory.

I went through the exterior door and then turned to see if Alex was here yet.

She was.

She was standing on the sidewalk next to the SUV, just like last week, only today there was no badge clipped to her belt.

No gun or ID.

It was just Alex, standing there in a dress and sandals, looking beautiful.

I was instantly reminded of how it felt, having her body pressed against mine, and all I could think about was holding her like that again.

"How'd it go?" she asked me, our standard post-therapy question.

"Good," I replied with a smile, and then because I could, I walked up to her and pulled her into a hug.

It occurred to me, as I held her close and breathed in her scent, that if Dr. Gyson wanted to, she could peek out her window and learn my secret.

But then I figured that it didn't really matter because it wasn't a secret anyway.

She knows it's Alex.

"It must have been _really_ good," she said, laughing a little at my exuberant greeting.

"Maybe I'm just still thinking about last night," I said suggestively, but then I kissed her on the cheek and let her go. "So you'd better give me the keys before I ruin your reputation out here on the sidewalk."

She raised her eyebrow at me without making any move to hand over the keys.

"Are you planning to ruin my reputation somewhere else?" she asked in that wonderfully sarcastic tone of hers.

"I'm thinking about it," I said with a grin. "But I've got somewhere I want to take you first."

She gave me the keys and flashed me a smile as she walked around to the other side of the vehicle.

"I didn't know that dating you would mean I'd end up in the passenger seat."

"I didn't know that dating you would mean I'd get to see you in dresses all the time," I countered playfully.

"It's June," she said simply. "It's too hot for jeans. Or at least when I'm not working."

"I like the dresses," I assured her, taking an extra moment to deliberately look her over from head to toe.

I mean, it's only fair. I was vibrating with need for her, so it wouldn't hurt to give her something to think about, too.

In fact…

I let my eyes linger purposefully on her body for a few seconds longer before bringing my gaze up to hers as I leaned across the console.

I kissed her and we were instantly back to the same intensity as last night.

It was as if only a minute had passed between then and now instead of more than twelve hours.

And it didn't matter that after going home last night I'd taken the time to supposedly get me back to square one again, especially not when she shifted in her seat so that she was turned more towards me at the same time that I moved to set my hand on her leg and the end result was my hand sliding up her thigh, beneath the fabric of her dress.

For a split second, I thought maybe I should move it, considering it ended up there completely by accident.

But that crazy thought disappeared quickly when she moved her leg again so that now my hand was even further up than before, and I was suddenly rethinking my idea of where I wanted to take her, because wouldn't it be even better if I just took her back to my place?

Because I think our idea of taking it slow was going by the wayside.

But then I thought about Gyson's words, and how much she'd stressed the importance of not procrastinating when it came to sharing pieces of myself so that it wouldn't get more difficult later on.

"I'm sorry," I said after I forced myself to pull away. "I got carried away. You just look so…"

I trailed off, but she smiled at me as she ran her hand through her hair.

"Like a woman whose reputation was nearly ruined in the front seat of an SUV?" she teased.

"I was going to say beautiful."

"Uh huh," she said dubiously, although her smile was still firmly intact. "So where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."

"If you take me to look at so-called art that's really only sweaty, naked people, I'll be the one ruining _your_ reputation," she challenged. "And you'll probably get banned from MOMA."

"Yeah, but what a way to go."

She laughed and then sat back in her seat, buckling her seat belt as I pulled away from the curb.

"You're not going to tell me?" she asked after I drove in silence for a few miles.

"You said you'd go anywhere I want to go," I reminded her as I reached over the console and picked up her hand.

I put my fingers through hers and then settled our joined hands on her leg.

"But I'll tell you anyway," I continued.

I glanced at her as she looked at me expectantly, and it amazed me that she seemed so happy just to be with me.

She hadn't just been saying it last week.

She meant it.

She'd literally go anywhere with me.

So as difficult as it was to start heading in the direction _opposite_ of my apartment, where it was a very real possibility that if I took her there, I'd find out quickly what else was beneath her dress aside from one flawlessly smooth thigh, I still made the turn toward my original destination.

Because I want this relationship to work, and if that means opening the blinds on my past, then I was going to do it.

Then maybe _later_ we'd go back to my place.

"Canarsie," I told her. "I want to show you where I grew up."

**The End**


End file.
